Wednesday, March 4, 2009

I say sob story, you say get over it.

I was walking around the Tenderloin alone today, running errands, my muscles sore from all of this new activity, when I realized that OH MY GOD, I'm happy. Really really truly happy to have a taste of living once again. To be inspired by the strangers and the grey streets around me. The macaroni and cheese puke I passed by on Hyde didn't even deter my good mood in the slightest (although, why would it, after six months of chemo?).

I was worried that my former mess of a life would continue post-cancer, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I'm consciously trying to make the right decisions and allow positive, constructive people into my world.

I am breaking into sobs as I try and write this, now full blown tears dripping onto the hard-wood floor in a little puddle at my feet. I am finally realizing the scope of what I have just been through. The overwhelming fear and feeling of death, the daily gritting of my teeth as I prepare myself for chemo, needles and blood and puke and endless, indescribable pain. It's not even over yet.

All of this and still the chance to be happy. I can hardly believe it. This is why I'm crying.

You have no idea what you are able to overcome. You cannot fathom how strong you really are.

9 comments:

Kailyn, I just came across your blog and simply wanted to know that I am thinking about you. I'm sitting in a hotel room in Portland, Ore., having just spent the last two days with a very inspirational cancer survivor. I flew out here from Wisconsin to record her story (I work for a company that makes the radiation therapy machine she was treated on). Anyway, I am blown away by her story, by your story and by every story I read about people who face cancer with massive courage and a sense of humor. Thanks.-kevin

Kailyn - Just wanted to cheer you on. I think we all reach a point where the reality of what we have gone through really sinks in and looks like you're there. You've still got a road ahead to travel and this can bubble up when you least expect it but now you know what it is. Congrats and welcome to the club!

my best friend's Mother passed from colon cancer-she battled it nearly twenty years and having endured numerous operations where they cut into her intestines. He told me as I started my battle with head and neck cancer:

"It's amazing how much abuse the human body can take." After 1 year & 3 months, I see what that is like.When you look back, just honor yourself now, in the present moment and through all that has brought you to your knees. It's all worthwhile to be reading you now. One Love.

You are beautiful and never cease to amaze me with your thoughts and strength through all of this. Between you and my mother, I feel like I am really lucky to know two of the strongest women in the world. You're truly an inspiration to me~ love you much!!

Crying is what we are allowed and no one will ever understand the amount of energy that goes into trials like this.

It is odd how something so life shattering can at the same time give us a sense of renewal in life. It's something I still sit in awe with at times. The past and all the chaos that happened, now in life everything seems so much better and brighter that it drowns out the past. It's liberating in some ways, all that I can describe as a fresh start and new eyes...a new path that starts off with self healing and discovery....

I am an artist and writer diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer called Ewing's Sarcoma. This is an attempt to document my process and provide inspiration for other twenty-somethings who refuse to go the way of headscarves and hospital gowns. I mean, really? Cancer is fucking hilarious.